I’m a bit of a list maker. I’m a great believer in writing things down so they don’t get forgotten and crossing things off once they have been done.
Take this week’s list for example. Number two on it was ‘clear up the kitchen’. Meaning ‘don’t stop at unloading the dishwasher, do the rest too!’
There were 18 items on the list. I have crossed off 10 of them. ‘Do the ironing’ is a perennial that gets transferred from list to list. If I wrote ‘hide the ironing’ it would be closer to the truth (and I could cross it off!) One of the more perplexing entries just says ‘send e-mail’ but not to whom or what about so that one’s pretty useless.
This time of year, however, the lists multiply. I now have one for Christmas presents and another for R’s 7th birthday party in a fortnight’s time. I have a list for vital things I mustn’t forget, like picking mum up from the station on Tuesday or renewing the car insurance for both cars.
Then there’s the Christmas card list, the things to do in the garden list and the list written by my mother to remind me how to look after her animals while she’s away. Perhaps the latter proves that the making of lists is an inherited trait…
Not forgetting, of course, the list of DIY projects for my OH and the shopping list I wrote for him of things to get from Tesco on his way home from work today, and its sister list of ideas for the food we might be going to eat over the weekend.
I have even got a neat little list, on the back of an old envelope, helpfully written by OH with ideas for his birthday which is useful but I’ve got to keep that list safe until the end of next February.
Actually, with so many lists, I can see a time soon when I’m going to need a list of my lists… but perhaps that would be a list too far.